when convoluted patients start convulsing
do they expect to find a tool
between the spasms of disorder?

when fictitious accidents lead to homeomorphisms
can i warp emotion gently around you?

is there a secret reserve
in the hyperbolic folds
of your unjust world, one deep enough
to bring it all back home?

or will you meander to the south,
float to the feather like a ground,
and rest there
with your quiet bones?